I could hop inside the magic lamp and grant you wishes.

I need a break. I need a cottage. I need the colour green. I need the sound of water. I need tiny mirrors and silver bells all around me. I need a good book. I need dead music. If a song doesn't soothe me down, it is not a song to me. I need it to be gloomy. I need gray skies overhead. I need life to simply slow down, take it easy. I need myself to count every breath I breathe. I need the soft sound of anklets. I need the clattering of vessels in the grandmother's kitchen. I need colourful cotton saree's wavering in the air on a string. I need a courtyard. I need summer. I need rain. I need another Me for company.

I was a little kid running around the empty place. Today, I do not remember how it looked. I only remember I was petrified. I hated every moment I was there. I wanted to rush back to the wild big bad city. Rush back to ugly hollow pseudo intellectuals. I admit. I regret. The empty house with rooms emptied of people is one thing I desperately crave for right now. Devouring the silence of evenings and mornings while the burning charcoal stings my eyes, I wish to neatly pack away the deafening noise of the place I claim to love and drift away to a place I claim to miss the most...